


12. I Think I've Broken Something

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: Care and Feeding 'Verse [12]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Depression, Drinking, Gen, drinking in the dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: Prompt: Broken DownObi-Wan just needs to find a quiet place to be.
Series: Care and Feeding 'Verse [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956823
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	12. I Think I've Broken Something

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place immediately before chapter 7 of "Care and Feeding of a Padawan Learner"

Obi-Wan used the lesser known corridors (i.e. the service passages for the droids) to make his way from his quarters on the Negotiator to one of the more rarely used training rooms. He knew if he stayed in his quarters it would be only a matter of time before someone found him, and he just wanted some time alone, dammit.

He was tired, and he felt broken down right through his soul. This war was draining everything from him. Even the light that had been his guide for his entire life felt dimmer, as if the darkness they fought were beginning to permeate everything.

Obi-Wan didn’t bother with the lights as he found a seat along the wall, spreading his cloak out underneath him to cut the chill from the decking before resting against the mats that were piled up, and refused to admit to himself that he was hiding with plans to drink in the dark. Even if that was exactly what he was going to do.

The Alderaanian brandy had been a gift from Mace some years ago. It wasn’t normally Obi-Wan’s first choice for this kind of behavior, but his options on board were limited to that, or whatever the boys had cooked up in the still they thought he didn’t know about. All in all, the apple flavored brandy was preferred.

He just...needed to stop thinking for a while. Needed to stop feeling the encroaching darkness, the grief that seemed a constant companion to his troops, Anakin’s growing anger, the sense of wrongWrongWRONG that was growing in the Force every day. Sleep rarely helped, as his dreams turned dark, and there was hardly time for it or meditation anyway.

Drinking in the dark, then.

Qui-Gon would be so disappointed in him. Not for drinking, Force knew his master had done his share of that (and not always in reputable establishments), but for all of the things he’d done over the last few years and the course of the war. In the way he’d trained Anakin. That he seemed to be an active supporter of what was essentially slave labor to fight a pretty unpopular war if the holonews was to be believed.

Qui-Gon had already firmly been on the path to being a Gray Jedi. If he’d lived to see the inception of the war, Obi-Wan had no doubt he’d have left the order in protest.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan wondered why he hadn’t. And then he remembered Umbara and what happened with Krell, and wondered how many more innocent lives would have been lost. He had nearly 300,000 lives under his direct command, a fraction of the entire army, but if his leadership could prevent needless loss of lives…

So he stayed. He stayed after Umbara. He stayed after Kadavo (and when, exactly, had he lost track of the number of times he’d been forced into a slave collar?). He stayed as the clone troops leaving Kamino got younger and younger as their losses mounted. He stayed and tried not to hate himself for it.

His comm chirped and he ignored it, other than to put it into silent mode. He was off duty. Except he was never off duty anymore. 

He missed being a Jedi. Sometimes he felt like he’d forgotten what that even used to mean. He missed Temple life, for all that he was never going to be a Temple-bound Jedi unless he was fortunate enough to live to retirement. He missed visiting the creche and teaching rotations amongst the initiates. He missed the way that light filled the halls and spaces. He missed the comfortable feel of the Force presence of his brethren as they went about their lives learning and teaching and studying.

Obi-Wan took another drink before he kicked off his boots.

There were days he woke up in his quarters on the Negotiator and thought ‘I just want to go home.’

His ship had been nicknamed after himself, but Obi-Wan had a hard time recalling the last time he used his diplomatic skills for anything more than trying to calm Anakin down. Oh, sure, he tried to find the right language for Bail and Senator Amidala to address the Clones Rights issue, but that had more to do with his familiarity with Galactic law than any real talent negotiating. He was a researcher - the Senators were the voice of the bill.

The door slid open and Cody stepped in. “General Kenobi? Sir?” Cody called quietly.

Obi-Wan put the bottle down, wincing slightly at the sound of it on the deck.

“General?”

Obi-Wan physically flinched at the sound of his title. 

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Here, Cody.”


End file.
